


Bombshell

by valda



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bigotry & Prejudice, Blow Jobs, Come Eating, Frottage, Leg Humping, Light Dom/sub, Lingerie, M/M, Public Blow Jobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-09
Updated: 2017-03-09
Packaged: 2018-10-01 11:27:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10188929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valda/pseuds/valda
Summary: Department store employee Ben Organa learns something new about the gorgeous redhead who always requests his help selecting lingerie.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fill for [this kyluxhardkinks prompt](http://kyluxhardkinks.tumblr.com/post/157119456656/ben-solo-works-part-time-in-the-lingerie-section).
> 
> Content warning: A character has narrow-minded views on gender and uses the word “sissy” to try to insult a man. (I could not bring myself to use other slurs even though this character probably would.)

Mr. Hux always comes in on Ben’s slowest day, when there’s barely anyone in the store. This time it’s a Tuesday, and Ben is out on the floor straightening stacks of panties. Mr. Hux is wearing the vest and slacks of a three-piece suit; the jacket hangs over his arm, falling perfectly with no wrinkles. It’s a warm day; he must have been stifled wearing that jacket in the sun. Ben finds himself once again wondering what Mr. Hux does for a living, to always be dressed so elegantly, and to also have time to go shopping in the middle of normal white-collar office hours.

“Could I hold your jacket for you, Mr. Hux?” he asks.

“Oh, yes, thank you, Ben,” Mr. Hux says, handing the garment over. “That would be very helpful.”

Ben hangs the jacket carefully behind the register, then makes his way back out into the racks. “Is there anything I can help you find today?”

“I was very happy with the bra I selected last time,” Mr. Hux says. His face goes slightly pink, and he adds, “It looks very good on my wife.”

Ben nods; that is, of course, the point. “But?” he asks.

“But,” Mr. Hux continues gratefully, “I was hoping to find something more...risque, this time. And matching panties.”

“Lace, or satin?”

“Maybe both?”

Ben smiles. “All right. Let’s see what we have.”

He leads Mr. Hux down to the wall display he set up that morning. “You picked a good time to come,” he says over his shoulder. “We’ve just received a new line from Phasma Intimates, and it might have just what you’re looking for.”

While much of the store’s stock seems rather boring or cheap to Ben, Phasma Intimates never fails to impress. The fabrics are top of the line, the workmanship is excellent, and the designs are intriguing. Ben’s go-to thong is one of theirs; he almost wishes he was wearing it now, as the provocative feeling of the fabric rubbing between his ass cheeks would be nice paired with the experience of watching Mr. Hux’s pale, slim fingers flutter anxiously at his throat, face tinged slightly pink as he makes his lingerie selections.

Then again, it wouldn’t be good to get too excited at work.

“Ah,” Mr. Hux says, sighting upon a bra and panty set with shimmering, ocean blue fabric trimmed in black lace.

“Good choice!” Ben smiles, flicking through the rack until he finds Mr. Hux’s wife’s size. They determined on Mr. Hux’s first visit to the store that his wife is rather close to Mr. Hux in measurements; this makes it pretty easy for Ben to eyeball the stock and make suggestions. “Here,” he says, unhooking the hanger and holding the set out for Mr. Hux’s inspection.

“Ah,” Mr. Hux says again, his face flushing a deeper red. “It’s lovely.”

“It really is,” Ben agrees. “Looks great especially with blue or green eyes, really makes them pop. What color are your wife’s eyes?”

“Oh,” Mr. Hux says, glancing away, “the same as mine.”

“Really?” Ben says. “What a wild coincidence! I mean, you’ve got heterochromia, right? The central kind?”

“What?” Mr. Hux looks at him, eyebrows going together.

“You know, the thing where your eye kind of...goes from one color to another color. You’ve got this kind of blue color mostly, but then toward the pupil you’ve got this ring of like, gold, or light brown. So sometimes your eyes look green, and sometimes they look blue, and they even look brown sometimes. Depending on the lighting, or what you’re wearing…”

Ben trails off, realizing Mr. Hux is staring at him. “Uh. Sorry.” He debates asking whether or not that was totally creepy, and ultimately decides it would be creepier if he asked.

“No, it’s fine,” Mr. Hux says, and Ben starts breathing again. “I was just surprised. Most people don’t notice it; they just think I have green eyes.”

“Well,” Ben says, “this set looks fantastic with your eyes, so it’ll look fantastic with your wife’s eyes, too.”

“You really think so?” Mr. Hux asks, taking the hanger and holding the bra close to his face. “It’s a good color for my eyes?”

“Oh, yeah,” Ben says. And he can’t help it—suddenly he’s imagining Mr. Hux in that bra and panty set, the shimmering satin and black lace setting off his pale skin. In his imagination, Mr. Hux is also wearing lace stockings, a pair of high heels, and bright red lipstick. His gold-red hair is mussed, falling into his eyes. “It’s a great color for your hair, too,” Ben says thoughtlessly. Then he remembers, with a disappointed pang, who the lingerie is actually for. “Don’t tell me your wife has the same hair color as you,” he jokes.

“Er,” Mr. Hux says. “Yes.”

“...you’re kidding.” Ben blinks.

Mr. Hux laughs shortly. “You’re right. That was a joke. She has blond hair.”

Ben laughs in response, glad to have something to think about that isn’t how hot Mr. Hux would look in lingerie. “That would have been way too weird! Same body type, same eye color, and same hair color!”

“Yes,” Mr. Hux agrees with a small smile. “That would be absurd.”

“I’d start wondering if you had accidentally married your twin sister or something,” Ben says.

“Ha. Yes.” Mr. Hux looks slightly less than amused at this point.

Ben scratches awkwardly at the back of his head. “Okay, well,” he says, “is there anything else I can help you with?”

“No,” Mr. Hux says, “this is all I need. Thank you, Ben.”

“My pleasure.”

Mr. Hux is quieter than usual as Ben rings him up; usually they at least chat about the weather, or their mutual lack of interest in the local sports teams. Ben hopes he hasn’t ruined it. This is how it always happens—he gets interested in someone, but then he says something weird and they start avoiding him.

It’s not like he’s _interested_ interested in Mr. Hux. He’s not. He can’t be. But he does like having the man come into the store. Mr. Hux is less self-conscious than most men who come in looking for something for their wives or girlfriends. Certainly less combative. And unlike many of them, he never makes fun of Ben for working here.

“Can I help you with your jacket?” Ben asks, holding out the garment.

“Thank you,” Mr. Hux says. If Ben happens to catch a whiff of that ginger hair—a crisp, clean scent that reminds him of the ocean, or a spring rain—as Mr. Hux slides his arms into the suit jacket, it doesn’t mean anything.

He hopes it’s not the last time, though.

~

Ben is on break in the food court, picking at his bourbon chicken and rice, when that asshole skinhead who just started at the Hot Topic swaggers up. “Organa!” he practically yells.

“The fuck,” Ben says. “I’m right here.”

“Yeah, but you like to ignore me.”

This is a true fact, so Ben says nothing.

“Just wondering if you bought yourself anything nice today.”

“Not yet,” Ben says as pleasantly as he can manage, “but you never know.”

“I meant _panties_ , Organa.”

“I knew what you meant, Spencer.”

“Everyone knows you only work in the _lingerie department_ because you want a discount.”

“Uh huh,” Ben says. “Do you mind? I’m trying to eat. I only get half an hour.”

“Because you wear _panties_ ,” Spencer clarifies unnecessarily, as if Ben hadn’t even spoken.

“Uh huh,” Ben says again. He stares at his lunch and tries counting to ten.

“Like a _sissy_.” Spencer leans over Ben’s table, sneering.

Ben slams his palms flat on the laminate tabletop. “Get. The fuck. Out of here.”

“Why? It’s a free country. I can say what I want.”

Ben closes his eyes and takes a long, deep breath. He can’t afford another anger management writeup, no matter how much he longs to smash his fist into Spencer’s stupid face. “Fine,” he says through his teeth. “Say whatever you want. I don’t have to listen to it.” He rises from the table, and Spencer takes what’s probably an involuntary step back. Ben’s nearly a foot taller than the guy, which may be why he only comes to fuck with him when he’s sitting down.

Closing the styrofoam on his mostly uneaten lunch, Ben stalks away from the table, slamming the container into the nearest trash can.

“You’re a coward,” Spencer yells at his back. “A sissy coward who wears women’s clothing like a freak.”

Ben rounds on him, flinging his arms into the air. “Clothes don’t have _gender_ ,” he shouts. “Leave me the fuck alone.”

“You never deny it!” Spencer says triumphantly.

“Why would I?” Ben scowls. “It doesn’t matter. You are _literally_ the only person who cares.”

“Oh I think a _lot_ of people would want to know what kind of pervert they’re shopping with,” Spencer says, eyes bulging, lips twitching in a grotesque grin. “How about I _warn_ them—”

“Excuse me, Ben?” comes a polite but sharp voice from off to the left. Ben turns toward it, and so does Spencer.

“The fuck are you?” Spencer spits at the interloper.

“A customer,” Mr. Hux says, and that shuts Spencer up. “Ben, I forgot something else I needed, if you would be so kind as to help me?”

“Oh,” Ben stammers. He glances at Spencer, who is smirking at him but mercifully not saying anything. “Uh. Sure.”

Spencer doesn’t follow as Ben trails Mr. Hux back to the department store. Ben’s on autopilot, focused on trying to control his breathing. The last thing he wants is for Mr. Hux to feel the brunt of his anger.

When they reach the lingerie desk, Mr. Hux turns around and looks at him, his face rather severe.

“I’m sorry,” Ben says automatically.

Mr. Hux frowns. “What for?”

“Um,” Ben says.

“Never mind,” Mr. Hux interrupts him, waving a hand. “I didn’t forget anything. That man was appalling. I wanted to get you away from him.”

“Oh,” Ben says, letting out a breath. “Thank you.”

“The things he was saying were extremely offensive,” Mr. Hux says.

“Uh, yeah.” Ben desperately wants to ask _In what way?_ But he’s afraid of what the answer might be.

“It—it was interesting that you didn’t just...refute his claims,” Mr. Hux goes on. His hands are in fists at his sides, and his eyes won’t meet Ben’s.

“Yeah, well,” Ben says, “it’s none of his business.”

“Quite right.” Mr. Hux presses his lips together, looking thoughtful. Then he shakes his head and finally looks at Ben. “Well. Since our cover story was that I forgot something, I ought to make another purchase. Do you have any recommendations?”

“Uh.” Ben’s mind immediately flashes back to his imaginings from earlier. “Have you considered stockings?”

He’s kicking himself before the words are even out of his mouth. But stockings would look good with that bra and panty set. They’d probably look fine on Mr. Hux’s wife.

“Actually,” Mr. Hux says, his face going that lovely pink again, “I was going to ask about those next time.”

“Well!” Ben says, cheered by this response. “Let’s go ahead and have a look now.”

It’s a short stroll to the hosiery racks. Ben leads Mr. Hux to the end of a row. “We offer stockings in a variety of colors, but I think black is the most tasteful. Plus, they’ll match pretty much anything.”

“That reasoning does seem sound,” Mr. Hux says.

“What do you think of these?” Ben pulls a hanger off the rack, displaying a pair of sleek black satin stockings topped off with thick bands of lace.

“Oh,” Mr. Hux says, trailing his fingers down the satin. “They’re lovely.”

“I think they’ll look fantastic with the bra and panty set,” Ben says.

“Quite,” says Mr. Hux. He gazes at the stockings for a moment, then looks straight at Ben, his eyes intent. “I’d like to see how they look.”

“Oh,” Ben says. “Um. Did you want to have your wife come in…?”

“No.” Mr. Hux pulls the hanger from Ben’s frozen fingers. “Where is the changing room?”

Mutely, Ben gestures toward the back wall.

“Won’t you come assist me?” Mr. Hux asks, still staring into Ben’s eyes. “I value your expertise.”

Ben nods, somewhat violently. “Yes. Sure. Absolutely.”

Mr. Hux disappears into the dressing rooms with the stockings and the bag containing his previous purchases. Ben swallows repeatedly against his dry throat and forces himself not to pace. He wonders how, exactly, this is even happening—and how he’s going to hide how much he’s wanted this, wanted to see Mr. Hux wearing the items Ben has helped him select.

“All right,” Mr. Hux says. “I’m ready. Please come in.”

Ben shifts from foot to foot, debating, as if he has any option other than to enter the dressing room and see Mr. Hux in lingerie. Then he strides forward with every ounce of affected confidence he can muster.

Mr. Hux has left the door to his changing room slightly ajar; Ben nudges it open and slips inside. He’s looking everywhere but at Mr. Hux—the floor, the wall, the door as he pushes it closed with a soft click. But finally there’s nothing left to do but look, and so he does.

Mr. Hux has an exquisite ass. The ocean-blue satin hugs it perfectly, lace accenting the curve just above where his ass meets his thigh. Ben sees this from multiple angles in the three dressing room mirrors.

The bra is perfect too, lying flat against Mr. Hux’s chest, tight enough to reveal hardened nipples. Ben wonders if Mr. Hux is cold. His eyes drop to the stockings, which cling enticingly to Mr. Hux’s slim legs, and then draw upward again to the front of the panties, which bulge with what is obviously Mr. Hux’s cock.

Ben shoves his hands into his pockets.

“Well?” Mr. Hux asks. “What do you think?”

“You’re beautiful,” Ben blurts. Then his hands are out of his pockets and covering his face. “Oh shit. Oh shit. I’m sorry. I mean, it all looks great. Your wife is going to look beautiful. That’s what I meant.”

Mr. Hux takes a step forward. He reaches up with both hands and tugs Ben’s hands away from his face by the wrists. “Ben,” he says, a barely discernible quaver in his voice, “I don’t have a wife.”

The idea was always ridiculous, Ben thinks wildly. Finding and marrying a woman with the exact same body type? That should have been a clue. The eye color bit should have been confirmation. And maybe it was; maybe Ben suspected it all along, and was just afraid to hope.

Ben bites his lip, heart pounding. “Husband?” he asks.

“No.”

“Lover?” Ben’s voice sounds pathetic, desperate to his own ears.

“No.” Mr. Hux’s eyes are the ocean color of the lingerie, bright and fierce. “This,” he says, nodding down at himself, “is for me.”

“Oh,” Ben says.

“Will that...be a problem?” Mr. Hux asks, voice as steely as his eyes, and it occurs to Ben that he’s not being aggressive. He’s nervous.

“Uh, yeah,” Ben says, and Mr. Hux’s eyes widen with the beginnings of horror, and the man immediately steps back, dropping Ben’s wrists. “But only because I find you unbelievably attractive,” Ben hurries to add, “and I don’t know how I’m supposed to be professional when I know you’re the one wearing this stuff.”

Mr. Hux’s face relaxes, and he closes his eyes briefly. Then he cocks his head to one side, stepping back in, and raises his hands toward Ben’s chest. His fingers curl into Ben’s shirt front, gentle but firm, and he smiles. It’s not the usual friendly curve of his plush pink lips. It’s something different. Dangerous. “You are infuriating,” he says softly.

Ben swallows again. “So I’ve been told,” he agrees in as light a tone as he can manage—but then Mr. Hux is yanking him into a kiss.

His mouth is just as soft as it looks.

“Do you know,” Mr. Hux murmurs into Ben’s mouth, punctuating the words with bites and licks, “how long I’ve wanted to touch you? How much I’ve enjoyed coming here, selecting intimates in front of you? I could have just ordered these things online, Ben, but I wanted you to see them.”

Ben moans. His hands come up to Mr. Hux’s hips, pulling his body in closer, the satin and lace an enticing contrast beneath his fingers. “Fuck,” he pants. Mr. Hux moves his mouth to Ben’s neck, sucking just below his ear. “I always imagined you wearing the things you bought,” Ben confesses in a desperate whisper. “Always.”

“And yet it never occurred to you that I might not actually have a wife,” Mr. Hux murmurs, voice tinged with amusement.

Ben feels his face flushing. “I wanted that,” he says. “I wanted you. I didn’t think it was possible.”

Mr. Hux hums against Ben’s neck, then bites gently. Ben shudders. “Would you get down on your knees for me, Ben?”

Ben drops to the floor without hesitation, hands still on Mr. Hux’s waist. He gazes up Mr. Hux’s body, eyes roving along his smooth, pale skin, over the brilliant blue lingerie and up to his face. Mr. Hux’s eyes have gone dark. “You’re very good, aren’t you?” Mr. Hux says, and Ben’s toes curl.

Mr. Hux props his foot on the changing room’s small bench, baring his milky inner thigh above the lace of the stocking. His fingers comb back through Ben’s hair, then tighten into a fist; Ben’s head is dragged forward until his lips meet Mr. Hux’s skin. Taking the hint, Ben begins to lap, suck, lick, and kiss. After a moment he risks a bite; Mr. Hux sucks in a breath but does not admonish him.

Ben is so close to Mr. Hux’s cock. It’s waiting right there in those panties. All he’d have to do is turn his head and it could be in his mouth. He’d suck it through the satin, coaxing it to full hardness. Maybe the tip would peek out the top, just past the lace. Ben groans at the thought. “Want you,” he says, and it sounds like he’s pouting again but this time he doesn’t care. “Want you in my mouth.”

Mr. Hux strokes Ben’s hair. “What do we say, Ben?”

“Please,” Ben says fervently. He raises his eyes. “Please, Mr. Hux, let me suck your dick.”

“Very good,” Mr. Hux says. “You may.”

Ben clutches eagerly at Mr. Hux’s hips as he turns his face toward the significant bulge in the ocean-blue panties. He mouths over it, then hooks his fingers into the waistband and tugs the panties down just enough to free Mr. Hux’s cock. “Fuck, yes,” he whispers, and then he’s sucking and licking up the naked length, running his tongue along Mr. Hux’s skin, and finally closing his lips around the head. He begins to suck, alternating with quick flicks of his tongue over the slit, tasting Mr. Hux’s precome and sighing with delight.

Mr. Hux keeps his hand in Ben’s hair, scratching his fingernails over Ben’s scalp, curling his fingers into a fist and tugging, and brushing back gently. It’s heaven. Mr. Hux tastes so good, and his touch feels so nice.

“Stop,” Mr. Hux says, pulling Ben off his dick. Ben licks his lips and looks up at Mr. Hux in confusion and disappointment. “I’m close, Ben, and this has been dangerous enough for you. Bring me off with your hand.”

“Are you clean?” Ben asks.

“Yes, but I can’t prove that to you.”

“I trust you,” Ben says. “You can prove it to me later.”

“I really can’t allow—” Mr. Hux breaks off as Ben sucks his cock back into his mouth. “ _Ben_ ,” Mr. Hux says, shuddering, and then he comes, cock twitching and pulsing against Ben’s tongue. Ben swallows it all.

Mr. Hux lets go of Ben’s hair and sits down on the bench. He leans his forearms on his knees and works to catch his breath. Ben stays on his knees, watching him. His own cock is making his boxers and work slacks uncomfortably tight.

Finally Mr. Hux raises his eyes. “I enjoyed that quite a bit, Ben,” he says, and Ben feels a rush of pleasure, “but you disobeyed me.”

Ice fills Ben’s stomach. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I wasn’t thinking. I wanted to taste you.”

“We can’t always get what we want, Ben,” Mr. Hux says. “For example, I expect you’re hard right now?”

“Yes, Mr. Hux,” Ben says.

“What would you like to do about that?”

“God,” Ben says, shifting uncomfortably, “I want you to touch me.”

“Then your punishment for disobeying me will be that I do not touch you,” Mr. Hux says.

Ben lets out a whine. “Please, Mr. Hux. I’m sorry, I promise. It’ll never happen again.”

“I have to ensure the lesson is learned,” Mr. Hux says with a small smirk. “However, since this is your first infraction, and you’ve been very good otherwise, I will allow you to get off.”

Ben reaches for his zipper, then stops. “What do you want me to do?” he asks.

“Very good,” Mr. Hux praises him, and again Ben flushes. “You’re learning well. Remove your clothes.”

Shoes, socks, slacks, button-down, undershirt, and boxers are soon in a messy pile on the floor. Ben returns to his knees, fisting his hands atop his legs to keep from touching his bobbing cock without permission.

“Beautiful,” Mr. Hux says softly, gazing at him. Ben finds himself grinning. “You may stand, Ben, and come here.”

Mr. Hux adjusts his position on the bench, spreading his legs. He’s tucked his cock back into the panties, and not being able to see it makes Ben miss having it in his mouth. He gazes at Mr. Hux’s panties, at how they curve over his length, and licks his lips.

Leaning back, Mr. Hux looks up at Ben and raises an eyebrow. “Bring yourself off,” he says, “against my leg.”

Ben trembles a bit. For a moment he’s not sure where to begin, but finally he straddles Mr. Hux’s leg, letting his cock lay along it.

“Be sure not to make a mess,” Mr. Hux says. “I expect you to catch everything with your hand.”

“Yes, Mr. Hux,” Ben says. He takes a breath, then begins moving his hips. It takes him a few tries to establish a rhythm, but finally he’s thrusting at a good pace. Though thrusting isn’t quite the right word for what he’s doing. He’s not entering Mr. Hux. He’s humping Mr. Hux’s leg like an animal.

The thought has him groaning, and his eyes slip shut as he bounces even harder. The friction against the satin stockings is almost painful, but Ben is so hard it doesn’t matter. His balls are being squeezed, mashed between his own body and Mr. Hux’s leg, a rough massage that seems intent on forcing out Ben’s come.

“I—I’m gonna—”

“Your hand, Ben,” Mr. Hux says, and Ben reaches up just in time. He’s wracked by a full-body shudder that seems to last forever, legs trembling beneath his weight as he gasps for breath.

As soon as the shaking stops, Ben steps back and returns to his knees, cupping a handful of his own come.

“You’ll need to clean that up,” Mr. Hux remarks.

“Yes, Mr. Hux,” Ben says, looking up at him through his lashes. He raises his hand and laps up his own come, never breaking eye contact.

Mr. Hux lets out a long, wistful-sounding sigh. “I wish I was ready to go again. I’d rather like to take you.”

“Fuck, yes,” Ben breathes.

“I’ve filled up one end, after all. It’s only natural that I fill the other.”

“ _Please_ ,” Ben says.

Mr. Hux laughs. But before he can say anything else, a distant voice issues forth down the hallway, coming from the direction of the sales floor. “Hello? Can someone help me?”

“Oh, shit,” Ben says.

“I suppose your break is over,” Mr. Hux says, looking amused.

“Um,” Ben says. “May I—?”

“Of course.” Mr. Hux waves at Ben’s clothes. “Get dressed. Go back to work.” Mr. Hux watches as Ben scrambles to get his clothes in order. “You’ve been very good, Ben. I’m very pleased.”

Ben is tingling all over. “Did this really happen?” he asks. “Did I really just get to—? With you—? I—”

Mr. Hux stands, steps over to Ben, and takes Ben’s chin in his hand. “It happened,” he says. “And if you’d like, it will happen again.”

“Fuck,” Ben says. “Yes, please, I would like that. A lot.”

“Good,” Mr. Hux says. “So would I.” He leans past Ben toward his suit jacket, which is hanging near the door, and withdraws a card from the pocket. “Come by tonight,” he says, slipping the card into the pocket of Ben’s slacks. “We have much to discuss.”

“ _Hello?_ ” yells the voice.

“Coming!” Ben yells back.

“I’ll be out in a moment to pay for the stockings,” Mr. Hux says. “I’m wearing them home.”

“Oh, god,” Ben says.

“I look forward to tonight, Ben.” And then Mr. Hux kisses him, as hot and possessive as before, leaving Ben reeling.

~

Ben is strolling through the darkened mall parking lot toward his distant car, whistling, when a voice calls out to him, “You seem cheerful, Organa.” It’s Spencer, of course, leaning against his heavily modded pickup truck. The thing’s been jacked up like a monster truck; it has enormous exhaust pipes sprouting vertically from the bed, and a pair of “truck nuts” dangle tastefully from the bumper.

“Hey, Spencer,” Ben says. He keeps walking.

“Did you find yourself a new pair of panties?” Spencer crows. “Or is it a corset this time?”

“Actually, Spencer,” Ben says airily, “I’m on my way to get laid.”

“Oooh!” Spencer pushes off his truck and trots over to walk alongside Ben. “Does she know where you work?”

“Let’s just say it’s not a problem.” Ben fishes in his pocket for his keys, and his hand comes up against Mr. Hux’s card. He smiles.

“No way,” Spencer says. “You mean she’s _into it_?”

Ben smirks at him. “I do get a discount, you know.”

“Shit, man.” Spencer shakes his head. “Never thought of it that way.”

They reach Ben’s car. As he’s unlocking it, Ben glances at Spencer. “You know, I should thank you,” he says. “If it wasn’t for you messing with me at lunch, this never would have happened. So thanks, man.”

“For real?” Spencer looks confused, and possibly embarrassed. “Uh, sure.”

Ben still wants to punch Spencer in the face. And maybe he will, someday. But right now, he’s got something better to think about. Mr. Hux is waiting for him at the address on the card.

As he pulls out of the mall parking lot, leaving Spencer, work, and the tedium of his normal life behind, Ben’s face splits into a giddy grin.

He wonders what Mr. Hux is wearing.

**Author's Note:**

> Gorgeous [commissioned artwork](http://cosleia.tumblr.com/post/160052942418/i-commissioned-this-absolutely-gorgeous-artwork) by [elviscl](http://elviscl.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
